


Lentils and Anarchy

by ColourShot



Category: The Young Ones (TV 1982)
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, basically wrote this for my own mental health, lots of gross crying, they are very in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28993143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColourShot/pseuds/ColourShot
Summary: Rick and Neil are opposites, they shouldn’t mix well. But they do and they found each other and Rick couldn’t be more grateful for it.
Relationships: Neil Wheedon Watkins Pye/Rick (Young Ones)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Lentils and Anarchy

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY I am working on like 3 other fics right now but I _needed_ to write something cute because PoetPye is one of my weaknesses (and also I had been having discussions with a certain someone about the ship and got very inspired because the ideas were very very cute).

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” The scream ripped through the house, kicking Neil into gear, who rushed into the room. There was Rick, tears streaming down his face, anger contorting his features. Neil knew that face all too well. Vyvyan let out a short bark of a laugh, clearly enjoying his torment of the poet. Rick could be a right bastard at times but Neil felt his heart drop slightly at seeing him so distressed. 

“Uh, Rick-” Neil tried to step forward, being largely ignored by the two. Rick only continued his yelling.

“THAT WAS MUCH TOO FAR, VYVYAN! I’M NOT BEING FUNNY, I RWEALLY HATE YOU!” Vyvyan didn’t seem to care, he only grinned wider in response, something that only made the poet’s blood boil further. Neil swallowed, he better break this up before it got physical.

“Rick!” Neil tried again, this time grabbing the poet’s arm, mid flail. An action that made Rick fling his head to face Neil, rat tails flying in a rather ridiculous fashion as he did so. His expression softened, even if only slightly. “Rick...you should, like, come with me.” Neil was prepared to carry the man out of the room if need be. He’d done it before.

“B-But Vyvyan! He-” Rick began to blubber, trying to keep his tears under control. Neil just nodded. 

“I know Rick, I know.” He made a “come here” gesture with his hand to which Rick rushed forward, gripping onto Neil - momentarily forgetting that Vyvyan was standing right there. Neil shot the punk a rather grumpy look before ushering Rick out of the room, hand never leaving the poet’s own. Vyvyan just shrugged, seemingly disappointed that the fight had ended so soon but deciding it was ultimately not worth chasing Rick upstairs to continue. 

“He makes me so angwy! I rweally can’t stand him sometimes!” Rick’s crying hadn’t stopped and his rhotacism was ever present, worsened by his upset. Neil continued to nod, _trying_ to get Rick to sit down next to him. The poet had begun to pace which was making Neil’s process of trying to get Rick to calm down much harder.

“Well, like, you don’t have to stand him then. Come and sit?” Rick ignored Neil’s attempt at a joke but complied, sitting next to him. He had mostly turned himself away from the hippie, arms crossed and tears still dribbling down his face - mixing with snot. Rick supposed it was rather disgusting really but Neil didn’t seem to mind. Quite the opposite, he’d only scooted closer. 

“Do you wanna, like, talk about what he did?” Rick shook his head rather furiously. “Okay well...do you wanna hug?” Neil offered. Rick finally looked at him before nodding. He uncurled and slipped into Neil’s arms, easily fitting into his large frame. Neil began to stroke Rick’s hair, listening to his shuddering cries slow slightly.

“I just…” Rick began after a few moments of silence. “H-He called me a fake! And I’m not a fake! I’m rweally rweally not!” Rick’s voice hitched again, the beginning of a wail creeping back. Neil nodded, offering mostly silent affirmation before gently titling Rick’s face up so he could look at him properly. Rick’s eyes were watery pools, staring at him rather dumbstruck.

Neil didn’t know it but just looking into his eyes was calming for Rick. They were brown, sure. Some might even call them unremarkable, Rick was sure he would have (and probably did) at some point but they weren’t really. They were perfectly remarkable to Rick, mostly because they belonged to the hippie. Nothing about Neil was truly unremarkable to Rick anymore, everything was worth taking note of. Everything was something to possibly write poetry about later. And now Neil was staring down at him, an expression of such calmness spread across his face that it reached down into Rick’s very soul, soothing him. The poet was quite unsure of how he did it.

“I know you’re not, like, fake, Rick.” Neil brought a reassuring hand up to his face, watching as Rick almost instinctively leaned into the touch. They’d done this many times before. “Vyv’s just, like, trying to hassle you on purpose. Don’t listen to what he says, okay?” Neil placed a soft kiss on Rick’s forehead. 

“Alwight...” Rick sniffled, wiping his nose on Neil’s sleeve - something that made Neil poke his tongue out slightly. “Can we...um” Rick seemed reluctant to say it, blush beginning to crawl up his face. It felt silly to get embarrassed but Rick had never been great at asking for affection - despite how much he _demanded_ attention. Thankfully, Neil took the hint. 

“Just like, lay on the bed, right? I’ll turn off the light.” Neil untangled himself from the embrace, hopping up. Rick nodded, curling up onto Neil’s sheets. He always liked it being dark, it helped him sort out his thoughts. He heard the shuffling of Neil’s feet and the creak of the bed. It dipped slightly before Neil’s frame slotted in behind him. An arm snaked its way around his waist, pulling him closer. Neil hummed quietly as Rick fiddled with his hands, trying to settle into the embrace. _Something_ was still on the poet’s mind.

Neil was depressed, that was an indisputable fact. And if Rick _really_ thought about it, the hippie had more reasons to be anxious than Rick did. Though he never showed much of his anxiety, perhaps it wasn’t there - Neil was awfully mellow. And that was just it. Neil was much calmer than Rick could ever hope to be and he _just didn’t understand it._ Even when he had been pushed past what should have been the limit, he never yelled. Moped, sure but yelled? No. The one time he’d ever properly raised voice was when Rick had had some choice words about flares and even then that was only after some encouragement from Vyvyan. 

Rick was a polar opposite to the hippie. He’d been trying to control his temper more, he really had been but it was bloody difficult. What with Vyvyan _constantly_ provoking him. Rick had always been short tempered, a fact even he couldn’t ignore. It was only exasperated by the punk’s seemingly joyful approach to their fights. Nothing quite got Rick going like someone taking pleasure in his rage, someone mocking his fury.

And then there was the guilt, oh the guilt. The neverending guilt that racked the poet night after sleepless night. He’d never tell Neil but he’d cried enough thinking about how he used to treat him. He’d never tell Neil about the times he woke up in a cold sweat, terrified the hippie was going to leave him for someone much kinder, much more stable, much more together - to put it simply, much _better_ than Rick. Because god knows, Neil deserved it. He had always awoken to Neil sleeping peacefully next him, just as he’d left him. It never quite quelled the poet’s anxiety in the way he wished it would have.

More than anything, Rick couldn’t wrap his head around why Neil had chosen someone like _him._

Rick hadn't ever apologised, he wasn't sure he actually _could_. He'd never swallowed his pride and done so before. Besides, Neil hadn't brought it up yet, so perhaps it wasn't an issue. Rick severely _hoped_ it wasn't an issue but even so, the idea niggled at him in the back of his mind. Ever present, the guilt mounting everytime he looked at Neil and remembered every vile thing he'd hurled at him over the years. Neil didn't deserve some sniveling apology anyway, Rick wasn't sure he could come up with something better than that so perhaps it was better he said nothing at all.

Still it felt as if the guilt could quite nearly kill him.

Rick’s head had begun to hurt, this was frightfully much too much introspection for one night. Rick rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on just enjoying Neil’s presence. Although it didn’t take long for Neil to pick up on Rick’s rather...disturbed state. He’d always been good at telling when Rick wasn’t alright.

"What's wrong, Rick?" Neil's voice was low, his breath tickling the back of Rick's neck. Rick was glad Neil couldn't see his face, he was sure it'd spell out in terrible clarity exactly what was wrong. 

"How do you do it Neil?" Rick blurted out, surprising even himself. "I-I mean, you're always so calm and I'm...well...not. At all." He followed up, beginning to fidget with his sleeves. Neil didn't say anything for a few seconds. 

"Um...I just, like, take things as they come, I guess?" Rick rolled over to face Neil, forcing him to move his arm. "Even if a lot of those things are like total and major bummers." Neil shrugged. "I really don't mind if you're not like that Rick, you know that right?" Neil could just make out a small pout on Rick's face, his eyebrows creasing in response. 

"Well...I rweally think you _should_ mind, actually." Rick had begun to sound distressed again, a few tears already collecting in the corners of his eyes. Neil raised his eyebrows. He almost hesitated asking the next question.

"Why's that Rick?"

"C-Cause I've been so utterly tewwible to you!" Rick was finding it hard to understand his own emotional outburst but Neil's tenderness throughout all of this had been driving him silently crazy. He couldn't stand him being so _nice_ when Rick had been so nasty to him before. 

"Rick, Rick, man that's, like, all in the past!" Neil hurried to reassure him, holding into the poet's arms. Bloody hell, this was fantastic wasn't it? Rick was trying to apologise and Neil was still focusing on Rick.

"N-No but-" Rick had to begun to sob, tear tracks that had already been well established by the earlier upset were flooded once again. He was sure he looked a right girlie but Rick was _tired_ and he was hurting and he was tired of hurting. His chest was nothing but a dull ache and his head hurt and he just wanted to tell Neil how extremely sorry he was but he _couldn't._ He couldn't stop the tears from flowing or his nose from running and Neil was only becoming more worried by the second. 

"I-I'm-" Rick willed himself to get through one sentence without hiccuping, he'd progressed past mild upset and he was sure he was having some sort of panic attack. The further he fell into the panic, the worse he felt. He was absolutely making a meal out of this "apology" and was definitely freaking poor Neil out and he _just couldn't stop._

Suddenly Neil's arms were around him again, embracing him. Rick buried his face into Neil’s chest, no doubt wetting his shirt. Neil was humming again, it only barely combated the tirade of sobs coming out of the poet but that didn’t matter. Rick soon realised that nothing really did. It didn’t matter that Neil’s necklace was pressing into him because he hadn’t bothered to take it off before climbing into bed with him. It didn’t matter that Neil’s shirt was scratchy and Neil himself smelled like dirt. It didn’t matter that Rick couldn’t slow his breathing, that he couldn’t fathom _why_ on earth Neil had chosen him over anyone else. None of it mattered. All that did was that Neil was here, holding him close, refusing to let go even though Rick was probably squishing one of his arms. 

He wasn’t going anywhere, even after seeing what Rick thought was the worst of him.

Rick let out another short, much more surprised sob once he came to that realisation. He wasn’t sure how he hadn't known it before but the idea felt like it had knocked the wind out of the poet. Rick gripped onto Neil’s shirt, as if he was holding on for dear life. Neil hadn’t said anything yet but his steady breathing provided as much reassurance as any words would. Rick forced himself to focus on it, it was so at odds with his own. His chest rising and falling sporadically, contrasted by Neil’s slow, steady inhales. If Rick really thought about it, it was a little bit like them.

Poetic thoughts aside, Rick’s crying had begun to slow and he could finally move his arms in a meaningful way. Rick embraced Neil back, hearing the hippie sigh contently in response.

“I-I am sowwy Neil.” Rick bit his lip slightly, mostly mumbling the sentence into Neil’s shoulder. Neil nodded.

“I know, Rick.”

“I mean, I rweally rweally-”

“Rick.” Neil let go slightly, just enough so he could get a proper look at Rick - or as proper you could get in the dark. “You know I’m, like, not into really heavy things like raising my voice or anything so you’re gonna have to, like, believe me when I say, _I know._ ” Rick nodded. “Or I will have to like, tell you off, okay?” Rick nodded again, it wasn’t much of a threat, Neil didn’t really _do_ threats.

“Holding grudges is pwobably bad karma anyway…right?” Rick sniffed, looking at Neil rather hopefully.

“Yeah exactly man.” Neil smiled, kissing Rick on the forehead before transitioning down to his cheek. Rick smiled himself, attempting to lean forward and kiss Neil properly but rather fantastically missing - only managing to smear a mix of tears and snot onto the hippies face.

“Gross.” Rick remarked, trying to wipe it off.

“Very.” Neil sounded amused more than upset and he let Rick rather haphazardly try to clean his face. It was hard in the dark. “Shall I, like, continue what you were _trying_ to do?” Rick nodded his head rather feverishly, feeling most of his anxieties melt away as Neil kissed him properly. Once again, Rick felt as if nothing else really mattered. It didn’t matter that his body ached from crying and that his eyes were bloodshot. And that his face was very likely a red mess - Neil didn’t care. _That_ was what mattered, Neil only cared about him, the real him. Any superficial standards that Rick placed on himself fell away - replaced only by Neil’s seemingly unending patience and love for him. And how incredibly lucky Rick was that Neil _did_ care so much. 

Rick didn’t think he could ever understand why or how, why Neil had - despite everything - returned those feelings for him. Those feelings which Rick had been determined on keeping to himself because how exactly was he meant to tell the man he had been tormenting, that he was horribly and hopelessly in love with him? But he had and now they were here. And Rick could tell, even through the darkness, that Neil was smiling at him with a warmth Rick missed when he wasn’t around. That smile that made Rick’s heart soar and caused any words the poet wished he could write down to escape him.

It was only when Rick yawned did he realise how exhausted he was. 

“Do you wanna sleep?” Rick nodded, he didn’t want to stop looking at Neil but his eyes were beginning to close. “Okay uh, should I, like, leave you to it?” Neil began to untangle himself from Rick’s arms. Rick shook his head, pouting slightly. 

“No!” Rick reached for Neil again, perhaps it was a bit of a pathetic looking gesture but Rick had had enough of pretending he was above that sort of thing. “Stay...please?” Neil sighed softly, he was sure he had things he was meant to do today but he couldn’t exactly leave Rick. And he wasn’t actually sure he wanted to. Rick turned back over, smiling a little too wide as he felt Neil lie next to him once again. Neil’s arm took back its rightful position around Rick’s waist, pulling him into a familiar embrace. Neil may have been taller than Rick but he curled himself around the poet, an almost protective position, legs entangled with Rick’s. 

“Do you think you could...um...just talk about something? Helps me sleep.” Rick murmured, feeling his eyelids begin to droop.

“Like...anything?”

“Like anything.”

“Oh, okay...well-” Neil began to talk, his voice pitched at a soothing hum. Rick felt sleep quickly trying to claim him, pulling him into a peaceful slumber. Any worries he had were discarded, replaced by gentle caresses and comforting words. It was one of the better sleeps Rick had ever had.

He did however find himself dreaming an awful lot about lentils that night.

**Author's Note:**

> Were you able stand Rick being totally and utterly in love with Neil? Jk but!! AHH I love them so much ;u; 
> 
> Excuse it if Rick sounds a little ooc but I'd like to imagine Neil has made him _slightly_ more emotionally competent.


End file.
